The Surprising Sibling Sensibility
by LawyerGirl1
Summary: "Of course it's not cheating. It's just Sheldon." What if Amy had a sister, a younger and smarter sister who could threaten the existence of the Girlfriend Agreement? First BigBang fic; please read and review!
1. The Illuminating Information Insufficien

**Chapter One: The Illuminating Information Insufficiency**

"Moreover, I believe that this is a crass infringement of my fundamental rights. Despite my heightened intelligence and moral superiority, I am still a human, you know!" Sheldon protested as Leonard propelled him out of the apartment.

"Oh, I know what you are," Leonard muttered as he locked the door. "Trust me."

Sheldon peered at him suspiciously. "Was that sarcasm?"

"Sounded like a good old-fashioned insult to me," Penny chirruped as she jogged up the stairs. She looked at their suits and collared shirts with surprise. "I thought you guys played paintball on the weekend?"

"That's another thing. I am being deprived of my monthly requirement of vitamin D," Sheldon told Leonard. "And vitamin D deficiency negatively affects the growth and development of cells, teeth and bones."

"I doubt you're going to grow any taller," Leonard sighed and turned to answer Penny's question. "Sheldon is lecturing a group of doctoral candidates on the basics of string theory."

"How the hell did that happen?" Penny asked, honestly surprised. "I mean ... how on earth did they convince Sheldon to devote some of his precious time to a group of students so obviously unworthy of his knowledge and talents?"

"Now that," Leonard told Sheldon, "was sarcasm."

"I find myself asking that very question, Penny," Sheldon replied. "And unfortunately, the answer is blackmail."

"Blackmail?"

"Blackmail."

"What, they threatened to take away all the germicides in the men's lavatory?"

"Worse."

"No more Sheldon-approved caffeiene-free beverages in the cafeteria?"

"Even worse."

Penny looked perplexed.

"They were going to take my grant money and give it to the dirt people," Sheldon explained in a horrified whisper. "There's even been talk of allocating it for ... the humanities."

Penny looked even more perplexed. "Can they do that?"

"Apparently. Some vulture with Machiavellian aspirations, yet sadly lacking the mental capacity to fulfil them, drafted my contract in such a way that some loosely-worded clause could be interpreted as a duty on my part to go and teach those poopyheads," Sheldon sighed.

"And if you're late, that grant money just might go to the dirt people after all," Leonard warned. "Let's go."

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"Social protocol dictates that I offer a few glib remarks on how pleasant it is for me to be here, how wonderful the weather is and how charmed I am to make your acquaintance," Sheldon said as he surveyed the lecturing hall in front of him. He sighed and his eyes curled with what could best be described as 'distaste'. "However, Missus Mary Cooper didn't raise her no liars."

One of the students from the front row, a veritable poster child for granola bars, raised his sleepy head from his slumped posture. "Huh?"

"He says that the weather sucks and he isn't happy to be here," the blonde girl next to Granola Boy clarified, flipping her hair over a tanned shoulder with evident disdain. "Right, Doctor Cooper?"

"Well, absolutely," Sheldon responded. The blonde girl looked like the type of girl that Howard insisted on calling 'surfer bunnies'. She was tanned and toned, wearing clothes that Penny would coo over, and, overall, created the impression of trying to be Science Barbie. But Sheldon was willing to overlook all that; after all, there can be no true flaw in someone who has the sense to call him 'Doctor Cooper'.

"Well, that's just stupid," Granola Boy retorted. "When does the weather ever suck in Pasadena?"

The blonde girl made a sound suspiciously like a snort. "That's the part of his opening speech that offends you? What about the poor syntax, the odd choice of words or the oblique, somewhat unflattering reference to the dominance of a specific religious order in one man's life? Or indeed the fact that, for him, it is not nice to meet us? All highly unscientific and unprofessional, I think. I want to hear about Doctor Cooper's work in physics, not the relationship between himself and his mother and I don't want to try to figure out why he seems to set on allowing a pre-formed idea to threaten the teacher-student relationship in this classroom paradigm."

"Actually, my hypothesis regarding relations between myself and doctoral candidates at this university has been formulated and proven by previous experience," Sheldon interjected, then paused. "Although your summary of my opening gambit threatens that hypothesis. It is nice indeed to meet someone with a proper regard for science and method."

"Now you just sound like Hercule Poirot," Granola Boy grinned.

"I'm not familiar with Mister Poirot's work," Sheldon said slowly.

The blonde girl frowned. "Nor am I. In which accredited journal of science would I find his work?"

"None," Granola Boy laughed. "He's a character from Agatha Christie's detective stories, who always focuses on 'his little grey cells' and 'proper order and method' in solving crimes."

"Oh," Sheldon said with a shudder, "the _humanities_."

"Can we rather focus on proper science?" the blonde girl asked.

"I agree," Sheldon said.

"Hey, if it's not nice for you to be here," Granola Boy began, sounding like someone whose brain was getting a much-needed workout, "then why are you here?"

"My grant money was going to be allocated to the dirt people," Sheldon replied.

Granola Boy frowned. "What?"

"Geography and other pseudosciences, I bet," the blonde girl said.

"My, I rephrase my opening gambit," Sheldon said, beaming beatifically at the blonde girl. "It is indeed an unsuspected delight to be here."

"Now dazzle us with science before you try to baffle us with your linguistic bull," the blonde girl replied.

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Leonard glanced curiously at Sheldon when his roommate entered the cafeteria, trying to appear as though he had been engrossed in his _The Amazing Adventures of Spider-Man_ and not listening for Sheldon's steps. "How was your day?" he asked, flinching inwardly at the memory of how the previous lecturing position nearly 'broke' Sheldon.

"In a word – triumphant," Sheldon said.

Leonard groaned.

"And this time, I mean it," Sheldon continued.

"So no poopyheads this time?"

"Oh, Leonard, of course the class was a bunch of poopyheads; it seems that there is a neverending supply of them in Pasadena. But there was one student who made it worthwhile. Came close to giving me a run for my money, let me tell you!"

"That's good," Leonard said cautiously. Following the previous fiasco, the regular professor had forbidden his class from using any cellphones or Androids or iPhones; the previous posts and Tweets had created some negative publicity for the university and a parent-teachers organisation in the neighbourhood had called for Sheldon's resignation due to his remarks about the class's intelligence. Leonard had managed to shield Sheldon from the fall-out; it was just a combination of luck and good timing that led to that weekend away at the spa which prevented Sheldon from seeing the local papers. But now the lack of Twitter had left Leonard drawing blanks as to whether 'triumphant' should be seen as 'disastrous' or 'Titanic meets Tron 2'.

"Doctor Cooper!" a girl called as she entered the cafeteria and walked over to their table. "Are you planning on taking on any doctoral candidates?"

"Not unless they threaten my regular pizza nights and it is hard to see how that could be lawful," Sheldon replied.

The girl bit her bottom lip. "Would you consider being my studyleader for my doctoral thesis?"

"Why, do you have an insider at Luigi's who could contaminate my Thursday night regular?"

The girl shot Leonard a conspiratorial look. "I love that he's actually being serious about that."

"Try living with him," Leonard suggested. "You'd soon feel somewhat differently about it."

"Well, Doctor Cooper?" the girl asked Sheldon.

Sheldon sighed. "In light of your less than inane responses to my questions, I'll consider it. What is your name and chosen field of interest?"

"My name is Katie Farrah Fowler," the girl replied.

Leonard choked on his soda.

"And I haven't yet chosen a field of interest. I was hoping you could guide me?"

"Well, young grasshopper ..." Sheldon began.

"Excuse me, but do you perhaps have a sister who specialises in neurobiology?" Leonard interrupted.

Katie nodded. "But we don't get along very well and she lacks the proper understanding of physics. No wonder she's been dabbling in the shallow end of intelligent research."

"And you don't think that ..."

"Excuse me, Leonard, but I think it is time you find your own grasshopper," Sheldon said firmly. "Miss Farrah Fowler, take a seat. Let's talk physics."


	2. The Flabbergasted Friends Feedback

**Chapter Two: The Flabbergasted Friends Feedback**

"Sheldon, doesn't anything seem wrong to you?"

Sheldon looked at his roommate with something almost like an expression. While his mind had been largely preoccupied with Katie Farrah Fowler's potential as a physicist since they left the Cal-Tech cafeteria, Sheldon was not one to let an opportunity slide. "Well, since you ask, Leonard, your hands seem permanently incapable of attaining the desirable ten-and-two position, you hardly ever stick to the speed limit as set out in our roommate agreement and ..."

"Not about my driving, about Amy's sister!"

"... And personal problems persistently interfere with your judgment," Sheldon finished. Leonard glared at him. "See? You're glaring at me with what seems to be either frustration or flatulence instead of focusing on the road."

"Look, you can't take Amy's sister as a doctoral candidate without discussing it with Amy first," Leonard said with an attempt at patience.

"There's nothing in our relationship agreement that states otherwise," Sheldon objected. "In fact, alongside the now well-known 'no coitus' clause is a prohibition on family interfering with research. I call it the 'no family and no familiarity' rule."

"Well, this is not about research. This is about your relationship with Amy."

"I hardly see how the two are connected. You know what happens when Amy and I start arguing about the proven supremacy of physics over neurobiology."

"Yes. Animals go into hiding, moms haul their children into mini-vans and camouflaged men in military bunkers start loading their guns," Leonard muttered.

"The humorous implication being that it would be akin to World War Three?"

Leonard sighed. "Yes."

"That's funny," Sheldon said with his odd, breathy laugh.

"In more ways than one," Leonard mumbled.

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"Hey," Penny greeted them as she met them inside the entryway of their apartment building. "Was Sheldon's class as horrible as my Cheesecake Factory shift?"

"Not for me," Sheldon replied.

"Why was your shift horrible?" Leonard asked.

Penny shrugged. "Ham-fisted families with jam-handed babies, that's all."

"I must say," Sheldon remarked as the three started walking up the stairs, "your vocabulary has shown some satisfactory expansion since we first met. I'd like to think I contributed to that development, albeit in some small and understated way."

"Oh my God, you, like, totally have," Penny shot back. "Now stop changing the subject and tell me how the class went."

"Also satisfactory. Thank you for enquiring."

"So satisfactory, in fact, that he signed up to be Amy's sister's study leader," Leonard added.

"Shut up!" Penny exclaimed. "Amy has a sister?"

"I'm surprised you didn't know that," Sheldon said. "You are her 'bestie', after all."

"So you knew Amy has a sister?" Leonard clarified. That made sense. At least it explained Sheldon's lack of a reaction to Katie's name.

"Of course. It was part of the disclosure forms attached to the relationship agreement."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Penny asked.

Sheldon sighed as though the answer was self-evident. Honestly, he thought. I have to explain everything to _homo sapiens_. "Because there is also a confidentiality clause attached to the relationship agreement."

Penny glanced at Leonard as Sheldon walked into their apartment. "Are you sure his mother had him tested properly?"

"So they both claim, but I have my doubts," Leonard responded.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Amy has a sister?"

"Sheldon voluntarily took on a doctoral candidate?"

Howard and Raj stared at Leonard with blank incomprehension.

"Have you met her?"

"Yeah, is she real or is this another 'Sheldon had too much sugar' episodes?"

"She's real, all right," Leonard said as he settled into the armchair with his Indian takeaway. "And she's almost exactly what I've imagined my children with Penny would be like."

"That's unsettling," Howard frowned as he flopped down onto the couch.

Raj sat down next to him. "Yeah. Sheldon's arrogance in Penny's beautifully sculpted body? Imagine the ego."

"Why would my children have Sheldon's arrogance?" Leonard asked, perplexed.

Howard shrugged. "Its part of a highly unlikely, yet plausible, scenario involving your marriage to Penny and a timely sperm donation from Sheldon."

"I don't know if I'm more offended or creeped out by that," Leonard mused.

"Well, we can get back to your feelings once you've decided. How did Amy's sister convince Sheldon to take her as a doctoral candidate?" Raj asked.

"Yeah. Was it part of another highly unlikely, yet plausible, scenario involving a striptease in the Cal-Tech cafeteria?"

"I'm not entirely sure anyone could motivate Sheldon by stripping," Raj remarked. "Apart from R2D2, of course."

Howard grinned. "And that would only be because Sheldon wants to check out the circuitry."

Neither one of the guys noticed the blinking light on Sheldon's laptop which indicated that his webcam was on and broadcasting their conversation into Amy's apartment.

xxxxxxxxxx

"I wonder why she never told us about her sister." Penny tucked her feet underneath her as she curled up on the couch.

Bernadette's eyes crinkled with concern. "Something bad must have happened between them. I wonder if …"

"Hold that thought," Penny said as a loud knocking interrupted Bernadette.

"Mayday! Mayday!" Amy said when Penny opened the door. "From the French '_m'aidez_', meaning 'help me', but more commonly used as a distress signal when at sea."

Penny wondered if there was a polite way to ask if Amy had snorted the starfish's crack cocaine.

"I am in distress and feel all at sea," Amy clarified, seeing Penny's puzzlement. "Hence, mayday! Mayday!"

"Have some wine," Penny said, as much to her unexpected guest as to herself. "Why are you in distress, Amy?"

"I have overheard a conversation from the boys' apartment which may astound you," Amy said, sipping at the proffered wine. "Sheldon has taken on a doctoral candidate."

Penny and Bernadette shared an 'uh-oh' look.

"Sweetie, I heard from Sheldon after his class that he wanted to take on your sister," Penny said gently. "I wasn't sure if you wanted me to know about it or not."

"Of course I do. That is what friends are for, according to Sesame Street. However, while I am somewhat concerned by Sheldon's choice of student, the relationship agreement limits my scope for interfering with his academic pursuits."

Penny wondered how to probe. "Why are you worried about your sister being Sheldon's student?"

"That is neither here nor there. Don't be so nosy, bestie," Amy retorted.

"Maybe you should just tell Sheldon that you're upset," Bernadette suggested.

"Oh, Bernadette. How winningly naïve you are. Penny, explain to Bernadette what happens when Sheldon and I argue about the proven supremacy of neurobiology over physics."

"It's bad," Penny said succinctly. "Honey, if you're uncomfortable with this arrangement, you have to tell Sheldon about it. This isn't about Heisenberg against the hippocampus; it's about your relationship with him."

"Nice references," Bernadette applauded.

Penny grinned. It seems that the smart talk had, despite Sheldon's misgivings, rubbed off on her. "Thanks!"

"I feel uncomfortable discussing my emotions with Sheldon. It is a relationship, after all, not a talk show appearance by Oprah and Maya Angelou," Amy countered. "Besides, the wording of the relationship agreement allows very little room for emotions."

"You mean that coitus contract of yours doesn't allow you to tell Sheldon how you feel?" Bernadette frowned. "Amy, that's just … unhealthy."

Amy shrugged. "Be that as it may, I cannot transgress against the spirit or the letter of our agreement. Which is why I hoped Penny would discuss it with him."

"Why me?" Penny asked.

"Well, section 45 subsection c paragraph i allows for dispute resolution procedures," Amy said. "And you are appointed as our mediator."

"Again, I say, why me?"

"Your unparalleled street smarts, your outstanding social skills and your ability to look sexy even in a dowdy pantsuit," Amy explained. "So will you do it? For your bestie?"

Penny sighed. "Sure."

"Thank you."

"And in return, you can tell me why you kept your sister a secret."

"Oh, look at the time," Amy said, getting to her feet. "I need to be up early in the morning. Good night, bestie. Good night, Bernadette."

Penny sighed as Amy left hurriedly. "Ever had that feeling that your family isn't as screwed up as you thought they were?"

"Only around Howard."


	3. The Rapid Responsibility Reallocation

**Chapter Three: The Rapid Responsibility Reallocation**

Penny braced herself as she walked into the laundry room and not for the usual reasons. It was, at best, difficult to talk with Sheldon - when the subject matter involved four-letter-words like emotion and feeling, it would turn into a veritable verbal minefield that she had little interest or inclination for. _But I told Amy I would and let's face it, he's much less Sheldon-y when she's around_.

"Sheldon, can I talk to you?"

Sheldon looked at her blankly as he folded a T-shirt. "You've proved yourself capable of doing so in the past, sometimes with good result."

"I mean, we need to talk," Penny sighed.

"No, we don't," Sheldon argued. "We need to eat, sleep, inhale oxygen and exhale carbon monoxide. Talking is just an unfortunate byproduct of man's inner pack animal."

Penny resisted the urge to pour the fabric softener onto his head. "Amy asked me to talk with you about your decision to take on Katie as a doctoral candidate."

"Well, why didn't you just say so?" Sheldon asked. "There's nothing to discuss. You have no legal standing in terms of our relationship agreement. That mediator clause was just a bid to make Amy happy."

"Maybe not, but I do know where you keep your comics and I will put them in unalphabetical order if you don't shut up and listen," Penny snapped.

Sheldon peered at her suspiciously. "It's not the twenty-third yet; you shouldn't be behaving so hormonally."

"Irritation is not a hormone, Sheldon, it's just an unfortunate byproduct of trying to talk to you!"

"Be that as it may, I recommend you make an appointment with your gynecologist on Monday. Your irrational anger and fluctuating emotions suggests that your endocrinal system might need some fine-tuning."

Penny gritted her teeth and thought of Amy. Amy, who had never had a never had a boyfriend before and who would be devastated if the relationship with Sheldon resulted in nothing more than sweet memories and bitter regrets. "Sheldon, you can't take Katie as a doctoral candidate."

"I must say, Penny, that these dictatorial tendencies of yours are most unbecoming. You may have Leonard by the proverbial balls, but that gives you little leeway with me," Sheldon warned. "I will not be told what I can and cannot do."

xxxxxxxxxx

"Leonard, if you ever want to have the possibility of seeing me naked again, you have to talk to Sheldon," Penny said as she burst into the guys' apartment.

Leonard nearly choked on his chicken. "You mean there is currently the possibility that I'll see you naked again?"

Penny's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I mean," Leonard coughed, "what happened?"

"I tried to talk to Sheldon about not taking Katie as a doctoral candidate, because he is upsetting Amy," Penny sighed as she flopped on the couch on Sheldon's cushion, taking advantage of his absence to indulge a little spite.

Raj whispered urgently in Howard's ear, who nodded. "I'm also wondering why she'd think it would go well."

Penny punched Howard's shoulder and he yelped. "Listen, Leonard, I had to leave the conversation when Sheldon suggested I have PMS."

"I wonder why he'd say such a crazy thing," Howard muttered, rubbing his arm.

Penny shot him a look. "Anyway, Leonard, you're his roommate. You must have some pull with him. Try and convince him that his girlfriend's happiness is important for his own happiness."

xxxxxxxxxx

"I hardly agree," Sheldon said, folding his Flash T-shirt precisely. "Amy and I are separate beings, not emotionally stunted Siamese twins. Why would her happiness influence my happiness?"

"Well," Leonard began, fighting the urge to splash extra fabric softener onto Sheldon's next load of laundry, "my experience with Penny has shown that …"

"Your experience with Penny has shown nothing but your questionable taste in female companionship and your willingness to roll over and show your belly to any dominant male like a very nervous puppy," Sheldon interjected.

"Penny is your friend," Leonard objected, "don't say she's questionable female companionship."

"I like Penny," Sheldon admitted. "I reserve the right to dislike her limited vocabulary, her off-key whistling, her habit of using pumice stones and similar bath products outside of a designated hygiene area, her habit of making up her own words to country songs where she forgets the lyrics, her habit of poaching my mother whenever she comes to visit …"

"How do you know Penny makes up the words to country songs? Are you a secret Taylor Swift fan?"

"Hardly," Sheldon sighed. "But even country songs cannot be that inane."

Leonard shook his head to dislodge the image of Sheldon signing 'You Belong With Me' in the shower. "Listen, Amy is your girlfriend and as such, her emotional state is bound to influence yours."

"How would you know? You haven't kept a girlfriend long enough to quantify that statement," Sheldon argued. "If anyone knows anything about making a woman happy, it would be Howard."

"Howard?" Leonard repeated, dumbfounded. He knew Sheldon was a bit of a monkey wrench when it came to socialization, but to mistake Howard and his dickey for a Casanova …

"Absolutely. If marriage is the final goal of dating, and the mainstream media suggests that it is, then Howard is winning by a landslide. Despite his appalling fashion choices and illicit Internet trysts with World of Warcraft trolls, he's the one that has had the most romantic success of all of us."

"That is possibly the most depressing thing I've ever heard," Leonard mused.

"That's because you don't keep a diary," Sheldon retorted, then cocked a finger at Leonard's expression. "Bazinga."

xxxxxxxxxx

"Howard, you talk to him."

"What? Why?"

"Because he's convinced you're some sort of Casanova."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I wouldn't be so happy about it. He also called you a cheater with bad taste in clothes."

xxxxxxxxx

"Sheldon, Leonard tells me that the greatest mind in physics needs some advice from the greatest mind in biology, if you catch my drift."

"I wouldn't mind a conversation with Charles Darwin, but Ouija boards tend to freak me out."

"What about an expert in sexuality, then?"

"I'm not a fan of Doctor Laura. I don't want her to tell me to get in touch with my inner self. That's what caused all those difficulties in Stockholm when I was twelve."

Howard gave Sheldon a look, which was completely lost on the greatest mind in physics. "I'm here to talk to you about having a successful relationship with Amy. And Katie as a doctoral candidate is not part of that relationship. Only some girls like a third person in the relationship and even they don't tend to want their sisters."

"I have re-evaluated my hypothesis since Leonard left. It seems to me that, given your relationship history since and after you met Bernadette, your success in matters of the heart can be more accurately ascribed to Bernadette's presence. If anybody has anything helpful to say, I bet it's Bernadette." Sheldon shot him a bemused look. "And Leonard believed that I would ever take advice on anything from an engineer."

xxxxxxxxx

"Bernadette, you have to go talk to Sheldon about Katie and Amy."

"No."

"Fair enough."

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Penny looked miserably at her shoes. She had tried to talk to Sheldon. So did Leonard and Howard. Bernadette refused. So did Raj. The five of them were grouped in the guys' apartment, trying to figure out a way out of the mess Sheldon had brought upon himself.

"If we don't convince Sheldon not to take Katie as a doctoral candidate, then Amy is going to be unhappy," Penny sighed.

"You mean unhappier than she'll be in a relationship with Sheldon?" Howard muttered.

Penny shot him a look. "Amy had a difficult childhood. She's never had a circle of friends or a boyfriend or any of the staples of an American childhood."

"Most of us had difficult childhoods," Howard pointed out. "We all had the bullying and the loneliness and the teasing."

"So you should be more sympathetic," Penny argued.

"Wait," Leonard said, staving off an argument with a sudden flash of brilliance. "There's always been one person who could talk sense into Sheldon."

Penny smacked her forehead. "I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner!"

"Given your community college education and Nebraskan upbringing, I believe that there's a lot of things you wouldn't think of," Sheldon said, bringing his laundry into the apartment. "I'm going to pack away my laundry and when I come back, you'd better not be in my spot."

"I can suggest a few places for you to put your laundry," Penny snapped.

"No need. I have a diagram," Sheldon replied.

Leonard took out his phone and began dialing the Sheldon Hotline. "Hi, Missus Cooper!" he said brightly. "We have a little problem here … no, not uranium … or iridium … no, it's worse … "

"Of course!" Howard said. "Calling in the mothership. Always a good Plan B."

"With Sheldon, it's usually the only plan," Penny agreed.


	4. The Peaceful Parental Pursuasion

**4. The Peaceful Parental Persuasion **

"Now, don't you just look like a harvest missing some sunshine," Mary Cooper said as she studied the bleary-eyed figure in front of her.

Amy straightened her shoulders defensively. "I was not expecting company at six on a Sunday."

"And if you were, would you have worn something other than Paul Bunyan's pajamas?"

Amy looked at her plaid pajamas bottoms and frowned. "I did not get this from Paul Bunyan. I am a strict monogamist and, if I did engage in some polygamous tendencies, I would not flaunt my one lover's nightwear in front of my other lover's mother. I got this from Gap. My bestie took me when the monkey stole my undergarments."

"Penny always did love her neighbour," Mary mused. "Now, can I come in for some coffee?"

"Is coffee a code for awkward social occasion?"

"Not if we make the coffee Irish," Mary smiled and walked inside Amy's apartment. She sat down and patted the couch cushion next to her. "Now, dear, you have known my Shelly for quite some time."

"A year, nine months, three weeks and two days," Amy said promptly.

Mary sighed inwardly and shot up a little prayer. Talking with Amy was a little like trying to get nine-year-old Sheldon to stop buying products from men in Iranian nuclear shelters. "And you've been his ... special friend ... for a while. No, dear, I don't need the calendar count. I'm just saying that you'd have noticed by now that he is not what one might call good with commitment and socialisation."

"Depends on the social conventions. Certain Indonesian tribes would find his straightforward nature refreshing and, of course, Somalian natives did not believe in kissing until it was introduced by colonialist forces."

"Yes, but in America, most of us think that God didn't give him the sense of a billy goat."

"Again, that would depend on ..."

"Amy," Mary interrupted, "why don't you emulate Lot's wife a little and just listen to me? I know we've had our differences in the past, but I would be as blind as a one-eyed bat if I didn't realise how happy you make my Shellybean. Now, I received a rather panicky call from Leonard last night and he says that you and Shelly seem headed for some sort of drama involving your sister."

"Leonard has a tendency to overreact. Especially if seafood and melon and dairy products of any kind have been on the menu," Amy countered. "But I believe that his panic over Katie Farrah Fowler is well deserved."

"I thought Farrah was your middle name."

"It is."

"Your sister has the same middle name?"

"Yes."

"I'm from Texas, but that might be perceived as weird by others," Mary answered. "You and your sister have some difficulties with each other?"

Amy stiffened. "Says who?"

"I have three children, four nieces, six nephews and a Sunday school class," Mary replied. "I know something about sibling rivalry."

"My problems with Katie Farrah Fowler have nothing to do with sibling rivalry," Amy said, and added petulantly, "but I don't like that she always wants to play with my things."

"That sounds like a statement that somebody with a firm grasp on Freud would be able to analyse," Mary said. "Now, honey, part of what makes you and Shelly good for each other is that you have entire conversations that nobody else can understand."

"Just Howard and sometimes Penny," Amy argued. "The rest of my friends have proper degrees."

Mary bit her lip and thought of Mother Theresa. "I have never seen Shelly get along with someone this well since that time he was twelve and we had to go to Stockholm."

"If he was the kind of guy to have nightmares, he would still be having nightmares about that," Amy muttered.

"Look, Amy, the point I'm trying to make is quite simple. Your relationship with Shelly, as weird as it may seem to the rest of us, makes him happy and its going to take more than a few academic sessions with your sister to change that."

"What objective, empirical measurements did you utilise to verify your hypothesis?" Amy asked.

"Three children, four nieces, six nephews and a Sunday school class." Mary patted Amy's knee. "Just let Shellybean do his thing. He'll come back to you. And, as we've learned with my brother Stumpy, it's always better not to nag a man. Now, how about some coffee?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"This is ... I've never ... Have you ... How can ..."

"Sheldon, calm down," Leonard sighed as he slumped onto the couch. It always felt like it was either too late or too early to deal with Sheldon, but six on a Sunday morning seemed like a contravention of the Geneva convention. "It's a good paper."

"Good? _Good_?" Sheldon repeated. "Star Trek was good. This is better."

Leonard opened his eyes and peered at Sheldon in surprise. "Something is better than Star Trek?"

"Yes. I mean, I've dealt with those poopyheads passing as students at the university before. When I took on Katie Farrah Fowler, I was expecting that I would have to begin our classes along the lines of 'our whole universe was in a hot, dense state and nearly fourteen billion years ago, expansion started'."

"Wait," Leonard sighed.

"Then the earth began to cool, the autotrophs began to drool, Neanderthals developed tools ..."

"We built a wall, we built the pyramids, I know. Sheldon ..."

"I mean, it seems as though Math, Science and History is all just a mystery to those poopyheads. But not her. Not Katie Farrah Fowler. She has a grasp of string theory that's much firmer than your precarious grasp on the basics." Sheldon glanced at the contents of the manila folder again. Katie had e-mailed him a proposal for her doctoral thesis and, when he read it this morning, he was happy to see that his original estimate of her intelligence was correct. "I have, in fact, never met someone with quite as firm a grasp on physics. Its wonderful that there's another Homo Novus around there. It gives me great hope for the future, Leonard, great hope indeed."

"That is great," Leonard echoed and hoped that Sheldon's mom would soon get here.


	5. The Engaging Educational Examination

**6. The Engaging Educational Examination**

_From the academic desk of Dr. Sheldon Cooper (B.S., M.S., M.A., Ph.D., Sc.D. – for now)_

Well, I find myself in quite a quandary. A predicament. A pickle, I daresay. And I have never been one to care much for relishes and condiments.

All right. I shall calm my mind using the techniques of my favourite lecturer at Starfleet Academy and begin at the beginning. I have decided to pen a record of my experiences with the young Miss Katie Farrah Fowler, imagining it to be of great value to a generation yet to come. Yes, I have little faith in the 'scientific' nature of the Humanities – but if I am doing it, how can it be wrong? Besides, I do believe that my writings will benefit _homo sapiens _much more than some predictable fluff penned by a woman who once was a journalist. Ah, to imagine the look of pure delight on a young boy's face when he discovers my droll little tale in his favourite scientific bookstore! The wondrous things mankind can learn from my scholastic interactions with young Miss Fowler!

But that's neither here not there nor a monkey's uncle, as Meemaw says.

As soon as I discovered the intellectual supremacy in a thesis submitted by Miss Katie Farrah Fowler, I invoked clause 3.2(b) of the Roommate Agreement, as amended, and had Leonard rush me over to my office in the modern-day Pasadena ant-farm known as Cal-Tech. (Note for future readers – I use 'modern' in a loose, early twenty-first century context. Obviously, it is as unicycles and horse-drawn carriages to the technology you revel in now.) The journey was five minutes and thirty-two seconds above the average, a deviation I ascribe to Leonard's muttered mumbling and persistence on giving way to senior citizens who have aged beyond the appropriate driving age and should not be on our roads. Highlighting my theories on an appropriate driving age did not make the time pass faster, I must note.

Once ensconced at my desk, a veritable Fortress of Solitude (thought with an infinitely superior temperature and higher comfort levels), I started delving into my files. Despite the proven superiority of modern technology (refer to note above regarding use of 'modern), some of my colleagues (again, a word I use loosely) insist on keeping printed and bound records of information. The day will come when all scientists are forced to keep their data in electronic format, with exceptions made for experiments and material proofs, and until such day, I, Sheldon Cooper, am doomed to dig through a dusty layer of shabby files to find the research I required.

In this state of mess, dust and personal disarray, enter my mother.

My mother is the one person that may be greeted with a physical gesture of affection (I'm told). I extended the obligatory cordial handshake to her, with a smile, and was somewhat taken aback at her response. I will record the conversation in full, even attempting some direct quotes, so that the future generations may notice some social blunders I may have overlooked. (This is one of those times that everybody should be grateful for my eidetic memory.)

"Shellybean, I know the good Lord didn't give you the sense of an earthworm," she began.

I had to correct her erroneous grasp of natural history, as I always do. (I believe it to be one of the more enjoyable aspects of our mother-son relationships). "Actually, earthworms are held to have a highly developed sense of touch and smell. Helminthologists believe that it somehow amends for the particular invertebrate's blindness, although I've concluded that it is more likely the result of ... "

"We're not talking about earthworms, dear," my mother said, apparently calm, as she seated herself at Raj's Brobdingnagian monstrosity.

"You brought it up," I muttered.

"What are you doing with Amy's sister?"

"Nothing. She's not here."

"I meant, why have you decided to be her mentor? Couldn't Leonard or the little brown fellow be her study guide?"

Since I believed my mother was making a joke, I indulged in a brief and hearty 'haha!' and inquired after the health of my Meemaw. From the fact that my mother told me to sit down and shut up, I assume it was the wrong response. (Note for future historians – wasn't I in the right here? Clearly no-one, not even a fundamentalist from Texan, would believe that saddling a young genius like Miss Katie Farrah Fowler with Leonard or Raj would be anything other than an intellectual injustice – one which will not occur on my watch. It's not for nothing that I had my Justice League of America Membership Card #12049294 laminated.)

"Now, I know you know that Amy is upset by your shenanigans. I know you don't know that in your heart or whatever you have in your chest, but Penny, Leonard and the Jew have all tried to convey that message to you," my mother began, using that voice she uses when she tells me not to buy iridium from Iran. "I also know it might be a little difficult for you to understand why that is. Let me explain it this way. Imagine Leonard was touching your comics, without using rubber gloves ..."

"I don't ask that Leonard use rubber gloves when handling my comics," I interjected, aghast at her misunderstanding. "I insist on latex."

"Now imagine Leonard is touching your comics, without using latex gloves, and he accidentally tears one of them. Then offers to replace your Batman with Archie. How would you feel about it?"

I could only stare at her in horror.

"Exactly. That is how Amy feels about you associating yourself with Katie. You have entered into a relationship agreement with Amy and whatever games you two choose to play, is by-and-large up to you. But as your mother, I have the right and the responsibility to stop you from hurting and confusing that poor girl even more. Whatever a relationship agreement may mean to you, it is still a contract and in Texas, your word is your bond."

I mentioned the clause that involves that neither may be involved with the other's research. My mother snorted regally (and yes, she can snort regally; it is an acoustic oddity not yet fully explained by audiophiles).

"In the preamble to your agreement, is it clearly stated that both the Boyfriend party and the Girlfriend party will strive to avoid the infliction of unnecessary emotional trauma," she pointed out.

"That is meant to prevent her from making me watch _Babylon Earth_," I clarified.

"And it is also meant to prevent either one of you hurting the other. And what you're doing to her now hurts her, Shelly. It hurts like you hurt Missy when Snowball died in that thingamajig you made."

"That's hardly a fair comparison," I objected. "Missy loved Snowball and Amy does not experience similar feelings of fondness, affection or even mild warmth toward her sister."

My mother folded her hands on the desk in a way that made the neck on my hair tingle. "You will either stop seeing this girl or you will break off your relationship with Amy."

"I can hardly stop seeing Katie, as you so colloquially phrase it," I said. "I'm obligated by the university to accept candidates for doctoral programmes. It's part of my job and didn't you raise me to have a good work ethic?"

"I also raised you to be a celibate Christian," my mother shot back. "Very well, then. You will outline your position to Amy, you will listen to what she has to say and ..."

"Mother, may I refer you to the clause which states that ..."

"... if you don't," my mother continued levelly, "I will tell the American government why methane levels really started flattening out in the 1980s."

Future generations, future reader – do not judge me for my assumed cowardice. I assume that the methane mystery will have been resolved, with my name duly cleared, by the time you peruse my musings. Yet at the time when the threat was made, I still faced the likelihood of severe penalties, the loss of my livelihood and a forced relationship with a muscular trucker named Bubba who will expect my subservience. I had no choice but to set the date with Amy Farrah Fowler. I am updating this in expectation of her arrival and will update you as events transpire.


End file.
